Paint
by owenluver
Summary: One of the Doctor's hidden talents become clear. NineRose sorry, I'm really bad a summaries


Title: Paint

Pairing: Nine/Rose

Rating: Pretty Safe for everyone. Slightly suggestive at the end.

Disclaimer: Not mine, all the BBC's

AN: Wrote this small one shot in the vain hope that I could get some ideas for Never Give Up. Didn't work though!

He sat on the battered old chair, in his battered old leather jacket as his battered old mind finally decided to rest. He rubbed at his eyes, stress making him tired. He didn't like being tired. It made him weak, un-alert. He shook his head, forcing the tiredness back behind him for now. He knew it would catch up on him.

He stood up from his seat and walked over to the TARDIS console, running a hand over it lovingly. The only thing he had. The only thing he loved. Well, the only thing he admitted he loved.

The Doctor's eyes were drawn to a small monitor as it switched on. Rose must have gotten lost. His eyes took in the room she was in and he frowned, wondering why she was that far in the TARDIS. He shook his head, muttering about 'humans and their inability to just leave well alone and go to the place they said they were going', and took off towards the room.

He turned left, and right, left again, almost getting lost himself. His curiosity began to get the better of him as he wondered why Rose would be this far away from her bedroom.

As he neared the door, he stopped suddenly. He suddenly felt like he was interrupting her somehow. Like he should just leave her. He began to turn and walk away when he heard a crash. He quickly dashed into the room, and grinned when he saw everything was alright and Rose had gotten herself into a right mess.

"Rose. I'm pretty sure the paint is meant to go on the paper, not yourself."

Rose's head snapped up, and a blush crept along her cheeks. Well, what he could see of her cheeks considering they were mostly covered in white paint.

"I slipped." Rose replied lamely, her head automatically falling to look at the ground.

The Doctor smiled and walked over.

"Well, I suppose you should go get cleaned up. That paint can be murder to get off skin. Believe me, I know."

Rose giggled.

"How? What happened?"

"I…I was in here a few years back. Was clearing up and got a bit of paint on my arm. Still on there. Despite the fact I went in about twenty showers straight after it dried up. So, if I were you, I'd go and wipe all of that off before it dries."

Rose grinned and walked over to him. The Doctor rolled his eyes, guessing what she wanted. He held out his left arm and pulled up the sleeve. Rose leaned in closely, inspecting the fine black line which was almost tattooed on him. She looked into his eyes and smiled slightly.

"Best wash it off then. Don't want that to happen."

The Doctor nodded and watched as she walked out. He felt guilty for lying to her. He had only got that mark on him earlier that day and hadn't had the chance to rub away at it. Rose was going to kill him if she found out.

He ran to the door, making sure she was nowhere near, before quietly closing it over. He returned to the room, looking about, checking that nothing had been touched. Slowly, he walked over to a cabinet that was squashed against the wall and opened it. He quickly turned to look back at the door before removing a rectangular piece of paper. He sat it on a stand and removed the sheet which was covering it.

Sitting down, he began to finish what he had started that morning. His brow furrowed in concentration as he made sure the sweeps were just right and he was using the right colours.

"Very nice. Didn't have you as the artistic kind."

The Doctor froze instantly as Rose's voice echoed around the room. The Doctor's eyes drooped as the smell of soap and shampoo reached his nostrils. He jumped slightly as arms wrapped themselves around his neck.

"So what was the inspiration?"

The Doctor turned to face Rose.

"A rather gorgeous flower who I travel with. Can't get her out of my mind."

Rose grinned and leaned towards the Doctor. Just before their lips met, she pulled away.

"Oh no, would you look at that! You've got paint on your face. Best go wash it of."

The Doctor went to protest, to tell her he was lying, when he caught the mischievous look in her eye.

"Yeah, I better. Fancy helping me?"

Rose grinned brightly and captured the Doctor's lips in a passionate kiss. Whilst grabbing her hand and dragging her out, the Doctor took a second to look at the painting he had cherished privately for so long.

A single red rose.


End file.
